


shaping the future

by angelhalo



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hisoka is his own warning, M/M, Post-Canon, relatively tame considering its them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-02-19 14:08:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22345486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelhalo/pseuds/angelhalo
Summary: Sliva goes first, Kikyo a week later, from grief, they’ll say.A week, and suddenly they’re orphans and there is no heir to be found.That is not necessarily a bad thing.OrIllumi finally learns to think for himself.
Relationships: Alluka Zoldyck & Illumi Zoldyck, Hisoka & Illumi Zoldyck, Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck, Illumi & His Family, Killua Zoldyck & Illumi Zoldyck
Comments: 32
Kudos: 343





	1. baby steps.

**Author's Note:**

> Found the original prompt for this   
> Prompt: How do you kill an assassin who is immune to every poison and can survive tremendous amounts of pain? You burn them from the inside.

Sliva was killed on a Tuesday. 

Illumi got the call as he wiped the blood from his pins, surrounded by bodies. His hunter notebook wailed with an alarm he set for any alert of his family. His phone lit up in his hand with messages. 

He felt nothing, well, maybe his heart dropped. Maybe a sliver of icy dread buried itself in his chest. Maybe he laughed, threw his head back and shook with laughter as tears ran down his cheek. But then the moment was over, and he didn't feel anything, and he went home. 

His father was on a contract and made a mistake and it killed him and the contract. 

A week later, he made it home just in time to see his mother breathe her last and then there is no more. 

A family of eight turned to three in an instant. 

Milluki said, “I just want my room.”

Kalluto said, “I don’t actually need anything.” once they arrived. They will be the head of the Spiders, one day and had not needed their family for a long time. “But I want mother’s wardrobe.” They said, smiling. Their mother’s clothes would get a new life with his sibling. 

Illumi said yes to both. 

See Illumi had a plan, assassins didn’t write wills, his father told them all Killua would be the heir, he didn’t need to put that on paper because they all were supposed to obey. 

But now his father was dead and Killua was nowhere to be found.

Hisoka showed up the day after they buried his mother next to an empty plot with his father's name on it.

“Heard your old man croaked.” The Magician said, standing in the foyer.

Croaked, made it sound like Sliva had passed away, it didn't sound like the story they were telling everyone, of an ambush of 50 men, of his father killing them before perishing from his injuries. It didn't sound like the truth either. 

Hisoka’s red hair hung around his face, his makeup was pristine. His yellow eyes glinted in the candlelight of the dark manor. Illumi stared at him, frowning.

“You're dead.” He said. Hisoka grinned, shrugging his arms out. 

Hisoka didn’t leave his side, not as he walked about the mansion. He talked freely to the other man, he had trusted him, once, with his family. Not with his life, he knew Hisoka knew if anyone had managed to kill Illumi than Illumi would have deserved it. If that person was Hisoka, well. 

“You plan to split it all evenly _five_ ways? That is,” Hisoka seemingly searched for a word. “ _Kind_ of you.” 

“It’s not as if any of us need it.” He said. They weren’t supposed to, Killua was supposed to take the house, lead them with contracts but they were supposed to be able to sustain themselves. It was why they were all sent to Heavens Arena when they were children. It was why Killua and Alluka had managed to go 12 years without their help and without detection. Had 12 years really passed since he last saw his brother and sister? Had their family really been broken for that long?

“And you think your brother and Little Alluka,” not so little anymore, he thought, they both had come to maturity in the time since he last saw them. “Are going to just wander back to claim their inheritance now that your parents are dead? Is this your way to finally lure them back home?” 

“No,” Illumi said, simply. He had no preconceived notions about what would happen. Killua and Alluka would either come home, take the money, take what they wanted, or they wouldn’t. He had seen the determination on the boy’s face the last time he saw him. Killua would never kill in their name again and Illumi had learned to accept that, even when it made him feel as if he was being stabbed. 

“So, you’re going to hunt them down to let them know?” And there is a feral hint to his grin. He thought about it, of traveling the world for a hint of his brother, as he did more than five years ago, but no.

“Killua’s _friend_ ,” Resentment colored his tone. “I’ll give it to him.” Hisoka’s eyebrows rose.

“ _Gon Freecss_?” Something in the other man’s voice had Illumi looking at him sharply. “You think he’ll take it?” 

“He doesn’t have to, he’ll tell Killua our parents are gone, that if he wants, the money, the house is all there.” 

“It sounds like a trap,” Hisoka said, popping the p, the way he would gum. “You just giving it all away.” 

“Maybe,” Illumi said as if discussing the weather and not two inheritances worth billions. “but it’s done.” He said, continuing his walk down the hall, Hisoka at his heels. 

Milluki told him the day he arrived (when Kikyo was still breathing) that their father had so many files that weren’t digitized. ‘

“You'll have to go through all of them if you want.” 

“You don't have some gadgets to do that?” Illumi asked and Milluki had laughed. 

“I don’t need to; I have access to the accounts. There is nothing in there that interests me.” There, being their father’s study. Illumi could count on one hand the number of times he had entered the room, even with his father there. “I don’t go in there.” 

“it's not alive!” _He can’t punish you for entering without his permission, he can’t hurt you._ Illumi wanted to say, But Milluki firmly shook his head. 

“No way.” 

Presently, Illumi opened the old wooden door to dust swirling in the air. 

“I ordered the butlers not to enter,” He said as Hisoka sneezed, there was more gusto than needed so he felt at least half of the sneeze was fake. 

It looked like it always did, the imposing wood desk, the large windows, the tall bookcase full of books, and trinkets Sliva had picked up in his travels, a sharp knife here, an elegant sword on another. There were no pictures of his children, no pictures of him or Kikyo. It could have been anyone’s office, deceptively calm and simple. 

Illumi broke into a cold sweat. 

He could see his father sitting at the desk as clear as day, Zeno standing behind him looking out the window. If he looked out the corner of his eye, he could almost see the figure of his mother, sitting in the chair. He imagined their disappointed faces. 

‘Alluka is dangerous, and you’re giving it a piece of our fortune.” He imagined his father saying. 

‘You think you can get away with pretending to be the heir?” Zeno asked in his head. ‘You don’t have the potential,’

‘Illumi, we love you, but this is something we cannot tolerate.’ Kikyo said, her voice shrill and sharp, her claws digging into his hand.

“Illumi,” Hisoka said, real in front of him. There was something like worry in his eyes as If worry was an emotion that they had ever felt. Illumi unclenched his hands, felt his nails leave his skin, knew there would be marks. 

“Be careful of what you touch.” He told Hisoka as if he hadn’t seen the shades of his parents and grandparents. “I don't know what traps may lie here.” Hisoka grinned, a challenge clear on his face and Illumi set himself to the task of going through the files in the office. 

He found one of his father's contact journals first and set about to digitizing it. 

Hisoka eventually wandered over to help after he twirled one of his father's swords, pulls every book on the bookcase to see which one might unlock a secret passage. He read each name to Illumi with patience Illumi didn’t know he had, and time passed quickly. 

Hisoka read a name and they both stopped. 

“He’s over Heaven’s arena.” They said together and Hisoka scoffed. 

“He _was_.” He said, with a glance at Illumi. He was dead now went unsaid. “Makes sense now on how your old man was able to send four _kids_ there.” Illumi glared at him. Was that an attempt at judgement? 

That conversation turned into,

“You really discovered your nen at eight?” If Illumi heard the interest, the impressed tone of Hisoka as he said it, he ignored it. 

“I needed it for the 200th floors.” He said with a quirk of his lips, Hisoka needed to focus or they would be here for weeks. 

“8 years old.” Hisoka reiterated. At eight Hisoka was chewing gum and fighting to survive, not that much different from him. “We are not the same.” He said. 

“Jealousy is ugly on you,” Illumi said, smirking.

“Jealousy? Imagine if you had burned yourself out, all that potential,” His lip curls into a sneer. “Gone.” 

“I was fine.” Hisoka gave him a look as to say we’re you?’ but what did Hisoka know? He was just as bad, lived just as dangerously. “Focus,” he said. “I want to be done with this one by lunch” 

Back to work they went. 

More requests for assassin jobs came in, Illumi ignored them. 

“I’m leaving,” Kalluto said. He stared at his sibling, being matched back with sharp dark eyes. “You should too.”

“There is work to be done,” Illumi said. He flipped a page. Hisoka had wandered off. He wondered if he had sensed this. 

“For who?” That left an unpleasant taste in Illumi’s mouth. Adulthood had shaped his sibling into something Illumi had no idea how to control. Could he beat them in a fight? Probably, but it would be close. “Send me contracts, if you have too, but there is nothing here for me, not anymore.” The way Kalluto said that standing right outside the door of the office, wearing their mother’s robes, hanging long and heavy against the floor, the fan held in their hand as if daring Illumi to argue with them, to fight against this.

It had only been a few days why couldn't he hold this family together?

“I know you were supposed to put up a bigger fight than that.” He doesn’t jump, Hisoka doesn’t scare him but the sharp yellow eyes are narrowed. Illumi’s skin itches. “Just letting them go like that, the Illumi I knew would never.” 

“Shut up.” He hissed as he stood. Hisoka shifted on his toes. Illumi wanted to hit something, did, swung out aiming for Hisoka’s sternum, Hisoka danced out the way, easily. 

“You’re not ready,” Hisoka said and that left a bitter taste in his mouth. How dare he? Hisoka took his arm in hand, digging sharp nails into the underside. “Weak.” He says. His breath caressed the back of Illumi’s neck. “Pathetic. Where’s all your aggression gone?” Illumi felt Hisoka’s hair brush against his hand as the other man let him go, drifted just out of Illumi’s swing. “Who are _you_?” 

He breathed heavy in the empty office, anger. That is what he felt right? That feeling slid into his hands and sharp nails dug into his fists.

How dare he? What did that clown know? He didn’t know what Illumi was dealing with, he couldn’t understand the family pressures. He didn’t have any!

“Hisoka!” He called, finally finding his voice, surprised at the tone of it. An empty hall echoed back to him, his siblings and Hisoka in the wind.


	2. calling in

_Killua said he’s never going back there._

Gon Freecss didn’t waste time. His first response message from Illumi’s lengthy earlier communication was short and clear. 

_I’ve already stated he doesn’t have to, I can send the money to them, wherever they want._ Felt like he was explaining something to a child, he tried to force the irritation under his skin away. 

_He won’t take your money, he doesn’t need it. Why even bother doing this?_

When he wrote the original message, he tried to make sure he appeared earnest, hopeful, tried to appeal to the person he thought Freecss was. He tried to do that now.

_I wanted them to know._

He paused, his hands hung over the characters, dangled in space. The why taunted him because he was acting on an impulse. There was nothing to prepare him for this.

_Though we may have our disagreements, we are still a family. They deserved to know. My parents were still their parents._

_Your parents were monsters._

It was concise, punctuated in its delivery. 

Illumi waited for the followup, watched the three dots blink at the bottom of the screen for what felt like years. There was no follow up.

He typed a response anyway, painstakingly choosing his words. 

_There are conversations we never had, and if my siblings want to know anything they think I know the answer to, they can contact me directly. If they just wish to talk,_

He edited it a thousand times before he hit send. 

He didn’t expect a response, didn’t get one from Gon Freecss but he said it anyway, sent it anyway. 

Hisoka had been keeping himself scarce, probably realized he should pick his battles more carefully and Illumi worked carefully and intensely, _alone_. The other man’s inane chatter nowhere to be found. 

The hours passed.

“Sir,” The Butler had been watching him for the last hour and Illumi had been ignoring it. 

“What?” 

“A message from one of your father’s favored clients was left at the gate.” His father didn’t have favorite clients, he had clients that paid more but going through these notebooks of his father, there was hardly anyone his father didn’t do a job for, the Butler being vague, it could be from anyone. 

“Destroy it,” He said.

“ _Sir ._ ” Illumi felt a sneer crawl its way onto his face. The Butlers had been quiet. They watched as he buried his mother, worked over his father’s notebooks, threw away and ignored messages of possible clients and they had been quiet. But it had been nearly three days since he buried his mother, and this _thing_ he was doing (grieving), it was tiring and time for him to be done with it. It was time for him to be a proper Zoldyck.

He could tell by the way the Butler opened his mouth to disobey him. 

“Destroy it,” he said before the other man spoke. “Now.” The Butler’s mouth snapped closed, and he narrowed his eyes before nodding.

“Yes, sir,” he said, turning on his heel.

It was over; it was done.

“You may try to act like it but you will never be the heir.” The man said as the door closed and then there was a needle embedded in the door. Illumi found that he was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling, out of his control.

‘You wouldn’t be able to handle a mutiny.’ a voice like his father said in his head. ‘So handle this, quickly.’

Illumi could give a message to the Head Butler, speak of the man’s disobedience, have it corrected (have him killed). He could tell the Butlers that this was temporary, that they would return to normal, that he would find the heir. Fix it so that their family would rise again. He would tell that he wouldn’t be a disgrace on their family legacy. But why did the thought of saying any of that to anyone leave such a bad taste in his mouth?

He looked at the needle in the door, gleaming, a sign of failure.

Where the hell was Hisoka? 

He left the door closed, a barrier between the rest of the mansion that was probably turning against him. It was a barrier between him and Hisoka, who drove him crazy. With those distractions gone, he worked feverishly. Searched his father’s notes for something, a sign maybe? Tried to think about what his father would have done in his position, could not come to conclusions.

His phone rang. 

He ignored it. Thought about it, realized that everyone who had that number was either here or,

He picked it up.

“I’m sorry to hear about Mom. I know you two were close.” The voice was soft, kindness, maybe pity somehow bleeding through the phone and into his ears. The casual way in which they spoke meant it could only be two people, and it was definitely not his brother.

“Alluka?” He asked, surprised at the air in his words, surprised at the surprise that colored his tone. 

When he thought of Alluka, he could only see a child who barely came up to his knees, who cried for weeks when Killua left even though no one had told her. The last time he had ever seen her, her eyes had been pitch black and terrifying (not unlike his own). 

Felt her exhale through the phone. Felt compelled to say something, anything, to apologize? “I”

“I’d choose what I would say very carefully.” She said, a gentle warning? A sign? He took a deep breath, didn’t know what to say. 

“Are you safe?” He found himself asking, and he heard her giggle mirthlessly.

“As safe as I want to be.” _Want to be_ echoed in his brain, repeating repeatedly, as he tried to parse out the meaning. “Are you?”

“Yes,” he said. He was lying, there might be a mutiny from the Butlers who never loved him the way they loved his siblings. He could handle it. He _would_ handle it. “Does he know you called me?”

“Of course not.” She said with that laugh of hers. “He thinks you’re lying like you always do. Thinks it’s a way for you to try to control him again. Thinks you’re trying to manipulate him because there is no way that Dad just,” She stopped with a soft intake of breath. 

_My parents are still their parents._

“It just doesn’t make any sense.” She continued. “And you reaching out through Gon, you shouldn’t have. And why now? If you always knew where he was and how to reach him, why didn’t you do it before?” 

“I wanted you to know, wanted you to have your rightful inheritance.” That was a clear answer, it didn’t have the drama that would come with him saying anything else. He was a broken record, that was all he had ever been, what he was now.

“We never had an inheritance.” She said, sharply. “I stopped existing to them before any of that was decided.”

“Not true.” He said. She was dangerous, they did what they had to do because she was a danger to them all. Right? _Why isn’t he sure?_ “Alluka,”

“Stop saying my name like you know me!” He put the phone down, away from him, the sharpness in her tone crawled down his spine. He took a deep breath and then picked the phone back up.

“I do not know you.” He finally said. “And you do not know me, which is the logical outcome considering our history.” She was quiet, and he only knew she hadn’t hung up because the time on the phone ticked up. He didn’t really know what to say. “But is it so awful for me to want to,” He started.

“Stop,” She said, interrupting him. “Don’t do this, not yet.” That was more than he deserved, more than he expected. That she had even called him at all, was a _victory_. 

“Okay.” He said, softly. 

“I’ll give you the account to send mine too, don’t send me all of it.” Her voice was that normal tone again, sweet and kind like the girl Killua swore she was. “If I even think you tried looking for me, us, you will never hear from us again.”

“Done.” Patience. He had gone 12 years without hearing from his siblings. What were a few more months in the grand scheme of things? “Will you call again?”

She didn’t answer for a long time. 

“I might, big brother.” She said and then she was gone. 

He placed the phone gently on the desk. The notebook he was combing over though, it sailed and slammed into the door after he threw it. 

“Angry?” Hisoka said as he entered. He bent over to pick up the notebook, his long limbs contorting for the easy task. “No, that’s not right,” He said as he made his way over to Illumi, his nail reaching out to scrape along Illumi’s cheek, it didn’t draw blood. Illumi almost wished it did. “You’re hopeful.” He smiled. “Interesting.”


	3. his own warning

“And you are sure it was Alluka?” Milluki asked, avoided looking Illumi in the eye, afraid questioning him would provoke him. 

“Yes,” Illumi said for the third time since they began this conversation, ground his teeth together. “Send the first payment.”

“Track it?” 

“No,” Illumi said too quickly judging by the questioning glance Milluki sent him. “Not now, make sure there is no trace on it,”

“Then it’s going to just disappear!” 

“I do not want to spook them back into hiding, _do not ruin this_.” He said, pointed and clear at Milluki, who ducked his head to avoid his tone.

This is the closest he’s been to Killua in twelve years and Alluka made it clear that she had the power (and had been using it) to keep them undetectable. If they vanished again, he would never see them (would never see Killua again) and he didn’t think he could handle that, not when it dangled so close within his reach. His little brother, his _responsibility_ , it just seemed like, 

“Do not ruin this.” He repeated to Milluki before he turned to leave his brother’s room.

“He’s not going to come back,” Milluki said and Illumi froze, did not turn back around to face his brother. “You always get like this whenever you think you can bring him back, but he’s not that kid anymore Illumi.” 

“I know,” Illumi said, his voice biting and cold. He had known for years, had explained that to his father. He had moved on, he had become focused on other things, he was the _best_ , the most _dangerous_ of his parents’ children and they hadn’t cared, he wasn’t Killua.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Milluki said quietly, almost as if he wasn’t even speaking to Illumi. “And who you’re doing it for.” 

Illumi had nothing to say to that, so he left.

Hisoka attached himself to Illumi’s side as he exited Milluki’s room, his grim smile almost a welcome distraction. 

“ _Please_ ,” Hisoka said, disdain dripping from every letter. “Do not shut yourself back up in that office waiting for the little one to call.”

“Shut up.” Illumi hissed as he continued his walk down the hall.

“You don’t even know what you’ll say. Will it be something like ’I’m sorry for trying to hunt you down and kill you’?” Hisoka asked from behind him, his voice was no louder than before but echoing down the hall. “I’m sorry that I did nothing to stop our parents from locking you away as if you were a rabid _dog_.” 

“ _Hisoka_.” His hands were at Hisoka’s throat, throwing him into the wall with a loud crack as the back of Hisoka’s head hit the wall. There was a crack as he rolled his neck to look Illumi in the eye, blood dripping from his lips. 

“I’m truly sorry I _hate_ you because you _took_ Killua away from me.”

“I will kill you,” Illumi said, not yelling, just certain of the fact. 

“You have been saying that for years.” 

Illumi smacked him or tried too, Hisoka ducked out the way, shoving Illumi away from him, a juvenile move, far beneath what they were both capable of in their prime. 

“Ah-ah.” He tutted at Illumi shaking his finger out at him, _taunting_ him and Illumi felt his muscles tense in anticipation. 

“You’re not ready yet,” Hisoka said.

“For what?” Illumi asked, hating how ragged his voice sounded. Hisoka did this to him, made him want to hurt, to kill, made him so angry. 

“You still haven’t decided,” Hisoka said as if it was simple.

“What are you talking about?” Illumi’s voice rose for the first time and he was so consciously aware of where he was out in the hall like this, exposed. Hisoka always ripped him raw, it’s why the man was his only, well. If he fought Hisoka in this state, he might actually kill him.

Despite constantly having to think three steps ahead of the man so his cards didn’t slice his throat, Hisoka made him feel stupid, made him feel things he hadn’t felt before. It made him so angry. 

“You need to go on a job,” Milluki said sticking his head out, Hisoka vanishing down the hallway out of view. “Get out of here.”

“I don’t want to,” Illumi said, quick, easy, but they both froze, locking eyes with each other. _Want to be_ echoing in response in his head. He needs to get it together. “I’d been away for a long time.” He said, “There is business to handle here.”

“I’ll send you a few missions that have come in,” Milluki said as if he had said nothing. 

“Milluki,” He started.

“Look,” Milluki said as if their father wasn’t dead and their mother hadn’t joined him, as if Killua and Alluka hadn’t run away years ago, as if their littlest sibling hadn’t already turned their back on them. “We need to go back to normal, this is _weird_. I don’t like it. Make it normal again.” 

Illumi knows he should focus on several aspects of that, Milluki being sincere, being blunt and honest, but he focused on the I statement.

_I don’t like it._

How long had his siblings been acting for themselves (since Killua, since forever)? And the glaring question, why hadn’t he? 

“There you go,” he heard it like a whisper caressing his neck.

“Send me the missions.” He said to Milluki who blinked in surprise, not expecting Illumi to have conceded. “I’ll make plans.” There were only three of them left. They could not afford to make mistakes.

The next time he saw Hisoka, the man was crawling into the bed beside him, quiet, stretching himself as if to rest. 

“There is a room made up for you,” Illumi said. The Butlers told him the other man never slept in it. 

Illumi didn’t look at him, keeping his eyes trained on the ceiling, their shoulders and arms brush, Hisoka cold as if he had just come in from outside. 

Hisoka was silent for quite some time. _Suspicious_. 

“Are we leaving?” Hisoka asked. He had already assumed that wherever Illumi went, he could follow. Already assumed that Illumi had decided. 

“Not yet,” Illumi said. Alluka would call tomorrow, he would use her to find Killua, only then would he be done here, only then would Hisoka find the answer he was looking for. 

“Who are _you_?” Hisoka had snarled less than a week ago, talking at him with that disappointed tone, and judgemental eyes. 

And then the first time they met, all those years ago, the way Hisoka had circled him, blood dripping from his mouth from where Illumi had hit him, the way his lips curled upward. The way he said, “You don’t know who you are, do you?” Making it sound like it was almost the most unfortunate thing he had ever seen.

Illumi looked at Hisoka now, turned his head, unsurprised to meet yellow eyes in his bed. 

“I know what you want,” Illumi said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. 

“Do you now?” Hisoka asked slowly, softly. Illumi hated that, the almost patronizing way that Hisoka was handling him. His parents died, but that didn’t make him stupid. 

Hisoka leaned in closer, till their noses almost touched and chuckled under his breath. 

Then Illumi kissed him, slid into Hisoka’s space and pressed their lips together. 

Impulsive. Shameful. He wanted to touch Hisoka, wanted to rip off the facade, wanted Hisoka’s mind to be run ragged the way his mind already was, had been since his mother breathed her last. 

Hisoka didn't respond to him, he’s still and cold and Illumi is uncertain. 

“If you say not yet, I will rip your tongue from your skull.” Hisoka smiled, sharp, knowingly. 

“Go to sleep, Zoldyck.” He said, not unkindly. 

Illumi closed his eyes. When he opened them in the morning, there wasn’t even a dent in the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bastard clown man and precious baby sister get separate chapters


	4. Chapter 4

Alluka called first thing in the morning. 

“How did Dad die?” She asked as soon as he picked up.

“Pass.” He said in return and heard her exhale loudly through the phone (like a typical teenager in the family they never were).

“Pass? So I can ask another one?” She sounded almost excited like this was a game and he guessed in a way it was. They were creating a new person to present to each other, he, someone worthy of interacting with her, and her, someone he never got the chance to know. 

“One to one.” He said. He had already thought about this, had shaped the pitch, figured she’ll slip up, make a mistake. “We will go back and forth, asking questions, and passing when needed. Acceptable?”

“Acceptable,” she said. 

They went back and forth, Illumi’s questions were superficial, purely meant for her to drop her guard. He asked her things like ‘what was her favorite color?’ She said dark violet, but sometimes green. He asked if she still had to sleep with the lights on, and she had laughed and told him no. 

She gave flippant answers to everything else, but here was what he knew. 

She loved spending time in open spaces because closed ones reminded her of the basement. She and Killua had spent the last 12 years of their lives looking over their shoulders for _him_. He was the nightmare in her dreams and no matter how much she laughed there was a weariness, a pause before every question and every answer. 

Her questions towards him were much heavier. She wanted to know how their father died, the client, the location. He passed on each one, so she then, in turn, asked “do you have any friends?” and he tried to say no before saying ‘just one.” 

That was the first time he heard her really laugh, it was a sharp bark of a sound, he could feel her smiling. 

“How does that even happen?” She asked, and the honest surprise in her voice made him pause. 

How did it happen? Hisoka had died and come back to life and had _stayed_. While he wouldn’t necessarily call them friends, Hisoka was the only one who was here and a part of that mattered. 

“He refused to stay dead.” He said to her and heard her snort in response. “Where are you?” He asked quickly in response. 

“Pass.” She said, knowing exactly what he tried to do. And the game went on. 

Hours passed, they ask each other questions of varying intensity, both trying to see if the other would slip and say something that the other didn’t want them to know yet. She was very well trained, matching his evasion skills head to head. It almost startled him at the cunning ferocity in which she targeted her questions at him. 

“Who taught you?” He wants to ask, who made her like this because it wasn’t them. 

It was the most fun Illumi had in a long time. 

“Tell me about him.” Illumi finally said. 

“Not a question.” She said, and they sat in silence, their breathing too quiet to hear over the phone, each carefully choosing their response. 

“Is he happy?” He finally asked as she spoke up. 

“Did you know?” She asked, at the same time. 

They were both silent, neither answering the other’s question. Illumi waiting for her to expand and her choosing to forge ahead.

“Did you know Dad made me like this?” She asked after a few seconds. “And when he couldn’t control me he locked me away.”

“Alluka,” 

“Or because I wasn’t Killua it was okay?” And it has been 12 years since he last saw her and he’s ruminated on these questions, tried to understand, find answers that their father most likely took with him to the grave.

He said nothing. 

“That’s what I thought.”

“No.” He says. She stopped talking. “I knew that you were dangerous.” She ripped honesty from him, almost against his will, like Hisoka. 

“I just needed,” She started. 

“I knew that Killua loved you. I knew you terrified our father.” The Zoldyck’s name was in danger from the moment she took her first steps. 

“Bullshit!” She snarled over the phone. “He didn’t _care_ enough to be afraid! None of you cared.”

“You could have ruined everything!” Did. Their family was never the same once her powers manifested, Killua left, their family collapsed, was collapsing. 

“Well, I guess he did _that_ just fine on his own.”

He was silent in response to that. 

“I need to see you.” He finally said, and she laughed that dark, bitter soft laugh.

“No, let’s try _this_ a few more times.” There was a wave of underlying anger in her voice and he has to quickly remind himself, patience. 

“Who taught you?” He tried to ask. 

“Next time, big brother.” 

The phone clicked. He closed his eyes. He dug his nails into his fists.

Patience, he had to be patient. 


	5. normality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: we earn our canon-typical violence tag this chapter

He contracted out a mission to his littlest sibling, who did not turn him down but wasn’t exactly thrilled for him to send it. 

It was not sustainable as a business. He knew they would not accept him as the heir; it wasn’t what his father wanted; it wasn’t what his grandfather wanted. 

All of them with their dark hair, their Meteor City stained blood would never have the same potential as Killua, the heir, the chosen son.

Killua, who was still missing, and he was no closer than he was months ago to finding him. 

He would have to do something about the butlers, he would have to do something about Killua, he would have to get Alluka to stay on the phone with him for longer than a few minutes. He had so much to do. 

Hisoka sat next to him on the bed, watched his pen scrawl down the pages, thinking of places and crossing them off 

“If you find them what will you do?”

12 years ago he would have a perfect answer, an answer his parents would have wanted to hear. 

“I will bring them home.” He would have said. Now his hand stilled as he turned his head to look at Hisoka. 

The sunlight peeked through his window, making Hisoka’s red hair glow. 

There was never any need for sun and moon metaphors for them, Hisoka was no sun, he was cruel, hot, carnage, darkness and Illumi was the cold, rational, calculating version of that. But as he stared at the man now, his voice caught in his throat. 

“Illumi, what do you want?” Hisoka asked, blunt, nothing but plain curiosity in his face. There was no right or wrong answer.

A normal man would say he just wants to be happy, a normal son would wish for their parents back, a normal brother would want their siblings,

“I just want to know they’re safe,” Illumi said. “To know I didn’t ruin them,” He wanted to look Killua in his face and know that he was stronger, to know that he deserved his birthright. To see them breathing and alive and happy, for them to know they’d beaten their parents, that they’d won. Alluka’s calls only gave him a glance, and he wanted to look, wanted to know who made her so she was no longer terrified of his darkness. 

“What will you do if you find them?” Hisoka asked again, his hand sliding up his arm, curling around his neck. He was cold and close and Illumi leaned in closer almost against his will. That was the genuine test, wasn’t it? What this had all been about?

“I’ll let them go.” He admitted, quietly, quietly into Hisoka’s chest, the man’s hand carding through his hair. “They don’t belong here.”

If they were younger and in love and not murderers and monsters, Hisoka would have said, “Neither do you.” Gripped his chin, forcing him to look into his yellow eyes. 

But he didn’t say that Hisoka actually said “How _pathetic_ , giving up on your parents will just like that, breaking their hearts one last time. You’re a _disgrace_. Aren’t you good for anything, Zoldyck?” Nails dug into his chin, sharp, prying an emotion from him he’s never felt. Fear.

No, he felt fear when Killua didn’t come home when their grandfather died and his father said “no matter what happens you’ll never be the heir,” when he had felt hatred and knew he couldn’t win.

He felt fear when Hisoka slid a golden ring on his finger, binding them to each other. 

He felt fear when the butlers looked at him and whispered and added more poison to his meals than typical. 

If he were being honest with himself, he had been feeling fear for quite some time and he twitched in Hisoka’s grip. 

“Is this where you say,” Illumi whispered. “That’s giving up is beneath me, that the person you thought I was, I’m not.”

“It doesn’t matter who I thought you were,” Hisoka said, yellow eyes narrowed. “Because you don’t even know who that is.” They were both broken records, they were both repeating themselves. 

“I do.” He snarled, twisted out of Hisoka’s hold, Hisoka didn’t fight him, let him go. He paced in front of the other man, who said nothing, just watched him with critiquing eyes. 

He was a Zoldyck, a son (not anymore), a brother (barely), an assassin (who flinched back from ending all this the way he knows he should) and Hisoka watched him, watched him wrestle with himself, watched him try to come to a conclusion, watched him go insane. 

“Hit me.” He snarled and Hisoka blinked, didn’t move. “I _want_ you to hit me.” He stalked up to the man, took a grip of his shirt, opened his mouth to say,

Hisoka smacked him with the back of his hand, hard enough to make his teeth click together. 

“Again,” He breathed out. “Harder.” He understood this, this was familiar, this was what they did, in hotel rooms, in Hisoka’s tower room, whenever they met, locked in a never-ending battle where the line between lover, friend and enemy blurred, when Illumi didn’t have to be the perfect son-brother-assassin when it was just them, just them and pain and impact. 

Zoldycks weren’t supposed to show feelings, were not supposed to grieve and go insane. He was not supposed to show emotion, wasn’t supposed to let a bastard who won’t stay dead beat him. 

Hisoka stood now. He punched him in his stomach, slammed along his ribs and Illumi smiled because the pain was bright and sharp and _familiar_ and he wanted it. He wanted it, the thought bright and shining and repeating over and over in his head. 

Years ago, before he ever learned that he could, he wanted Hisoka, wanted to beat him, wanted to crush him, wanted him to, 

Hisoka was saying something to him, muttering even as he placed careful strikes, dug his nails into the meat of Illumi’s thighs and ripped him apart.

“Come on,” the man was saying, Illumi’s blood on his fingers. “Come on, give me a fight. Be my fucked up little Zoldyck.” 

Illumi lashed out, blind, found flesh and gripped, clawed into Hisoka’s side, neither of them screamed out, they knew how to take the pain. He kicked out his foot, caught Hisoka’s ankle. They grappled on the floor, each using their nails to scratch and draw blood. Hisoka bit into the space beneath Illumi’s collarbone. It hurt, it _hurt_. 

Something broke, shattered on the ground, and Illumi didn’t care. Who would punish him for it? Who would break him for everything they broke? 

He thought about Hisoka ducking out the way of his swings, thought about Hisoka calling him _weak_ and _pathetic_ and grabbed the man’s hair and pulled so that his neck strained and he stared at Illumi with eyes blown open. 

_He missed this_. He spits blood. A flicker of amusement crossed Hisoka’s face, disappeared as Illumi used his other hand to grip his throat, straddle him.

They were bruised, with blood dripping down their faces. They had never been gentle with each other. Illumi stared at Hisoka, breathed hard. Hisoka had always given him a challenge, Hisoka was always there, he always,

_Assassins don’t have friends._

“Illu,” Hisoka huffed out underneath him, chuckles, wiggled in his iron grip. “What do you want?” He rolled his hips, suggestive even as he licked the blood off his lips. “Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to fight you? Do you,” Illumi slapped him so hard the man’s face pressed to the floor. “It’s okay,” He said laughing familiar, so familiar. “It’s okay to,” the next word of his died as he gurgled blood, as Illumi wrapped his hands around his throat and squeezed. 

_I want you to kill me._

Hisoka drove him mad, always wanted Illumi to do impossible things. 

“Come with me,” Hisoka had said, a long time ago. “You don’t have to stay.” 

In the present, Illumi let go, loosened his fingers from around Hisoka’s neck, felt his hand shaking, tried to rise but Hisoka’s hands gripped his thighs, holding tight to him, even as he coughed and regained air in his lungs.

“ _Oh Illu_ ,” The man said something like mercy in his voice. 

“I’ll kill you,” Illumi said, his voice flat, even as he wiped at his face, blood, water mixed, blurred his vision. 

Hisoka took his hands off of Illumi’s thighs, just stared at him with round yellow eyes. 

“You’re very close.” He said. 

Illumi thought if Hisoka touched him he would rip off his hand, thought if any of the nostalgic words he was thinking came out his own throat he would rip it out.

He rose, felt the bruises in his body throb, looked down at Hisoka who would bear his marks, the same bruises. Pressed at the bite mark under his collarbone. Looked at the damage from their fight.

“Get out.” He said. Hisoka sat up on his elbows. 

“Illumi,” 

“Get out.” He was not yelling, but he was forceful. 

Hisoka stood, his limbs contorting. He didn’t move towards Illumi just looked at him, Illumi felt like a bug under his gaze not sure Hisoka wanted to squash him or just observe. 

“You’re almost there,” Hisoka said. “Don’t stop now.” 

The phone rang. He looked at the desk where it was. When Illumi looked back to where the man had been, there was only a smear of blood in its place.

“I don’t trust you.” The voice on the phone said. Illumi took in a sharp breath. 

“Killua?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments fuel me so please,
> 
> Also I have a [twitter](https://twitter.com/slim_might) now! Come talk to me and stay safe!!


	6. Killua

Illumi remembered holding Killua in his arms.

“He is your responsibility.” Kikyo had said, on the other side of the room, far from her children, dismissive in her tone. “You will make sure he wants for nothing.” 

It wasn’t like when Milluki had been born, discarded so quickly despite his intelligence. Illumi was quickly told to focus on himself, to allow Milluki to be self-reliant. No, they gave Killua to him and he looked down at the baby with his eyes wide. Killua reached up and gripped his long black hair in his chubby hands, giggled, eyes bright and blue.

“He will be better than you.” Silva had said, taking Killua away. Leaving the space in Illumi’s arms cold. “He will lead you all.” 

In the present, they both breathed in silence for several seconds, Illumi felt blood drip down his side. Ignoring it, he clutched the phone tighter. 

“Killua.” He said again. 

“I don’t know how she can stand it,” Killua said. His voice was deeper than Illumi remembered, rumbled their father’s did, his words like a glacial wind. Fast-paced, biting. “She should still hate you for what you did to her, to _us_.” And he stopped. “I can’t do this.” 

But he did not hang up. They breathed together, in sync even across the line. 

“Are they really dead?” Killua finally asked. Disbelief, something like anger filling the gaps. 

“Yes.” And Illumi thought his heart stopped at Killua’s first word across the line and now he had to force himself to start each beat so he did not miss a second of this. 

“How did he die?” Alluka had asked the same of him and he hadn’t answered, staying drawn into their game. This was no game now. 

“He made a mistake, and it killed him and the contract,” Illumi said. Honest about what had happened for the first time. 

“Dad didn’t make mistakes,” He stopped himself. 12 years since Killua last saw their father, 12 years, and even now Silva’s presence pressed on their backs, on their tongues. 

“I know,” Illumi said. 

There were two people Illumi’s world had always revolved around. Before Killua was born, it was Silva’s every word that shaped him and made him. And once Killua was born, it was Killua. Now his world had compressed to the estate, the two graves outside bearing his parents’ names and a phone that was his only link to his two lost siblings. 

“I know,” He said again, repeating himself, waiting for the click on the line that told him Killua was gone. “What did Alluka tell you?” 

“She thinks you might have really changed, that you’re not such a power-hungry freak.” He paused. “I’m not stupid. You’re not capable of that. You couldn’t find us, so this is just your last-ditch attempt to take us back there.”

“You don’t have to come back.” What was he saying? A voice a lot like his mother screamed in his head. _Killua is misguided, he needs you._ “With our parents dead, the estate is yours.”

“And if I wanted to burn it to the ground?” Killua asked, spiteful, and mean. 

“It’s yours, do with it what you want.” 

There was a time where he would have given Killua the world if he had asked for it. That time ended when Killua officially became the heir, when Killua loved Alluka more than he loved the rest of them. When his parents started sending him on long missions away, when he met Hisoka. But now, if Killua asked for the world, he would probably still try to give it to him. It would be easier for him to rip out his eyes than be able to stop caring about Killua. 

“I don’t want it,” Killua said, and he wasn’t just talking about the estate or even the inheritance, he was talking about being tied to the Zoldyck family. “I never did.”

“I know,” Illumi admitted, softer than he wanted. 

“They should have made Kalluto the heir, anyway.” He said as if he thought about it. As if he had planned to offer their youngest sibling all along.

“No,” But wouldn’t that have made the butlers happy? Any of his siblings besides him, who was too cruel and too stupid, was probably a welcome change. “I will be the last.” 

It was one thing to think of being the last Zoldyck fleetingly while talking with Hisoka. It was another thing entirely to say it to Killua. 

“Good,” Killua said and hung up, stealing the last word without a fight. 

-

He sat on the floor in silence for hours with his back pressed against the desk; the phone held in a loose grip. 

Killua.

His words repeated in his head, as he tried to analyze every brief sentence, as he tried to figure out who the man his brother had become. 

12 years since he had last heard his brother’s voice, and he felt no closer or further from his goal. Killua was alive and had reached out to Illumi on his own. That was more than he could have ever wished for. 

He looked down at his hands and was surprised to see them shake. What was about it about Killua that could shake the equilibrium of his world? Even his long conversations with Alluka hadn’t left him like this. 

He wanted to see them. 

The door opened. Pale hands lifted his chin, so he looked into golden eyes. 

“Killua always did this to you.” Hisoka pulled him to his feet with ungentle hands. “The little one gave you hope, and he ripped it away, didn’t he?” Mockingly, condescending, something sharp behind those yellow eyes. 

Illumi didn’t correct the man, let him lead him down the hall towards the baths, his limbs moving on their own accord, as Hisoka stripped him and pushed him underneath the spray of water, hovering on the outskirts of Illumi’s vision as boiling hot water cascaded down his body, dried blood from their earlier fight washed around brown. 

“Illumi,” Hisoka asked, soft and biting. His nails digging into the soft flesh of Illumi’s arm. “Why are we still here?” 

“I’m not keeping you here.” Illumi bit out. His first words since Killua hung up the phone. If Hisoka wanted to leave, he could, just like everyone else in his life had.

“Yes,” Hisoka said, flickering out of sight in the steam when Illumi blinked. “You are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please stay safe! Comments always wanted!


End file.
